


the ones who bloom in the bitter snow

by AmyBenson



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Not Beta Read, let good things come to Daisy Johnson 2k20, post 7x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25532920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyBenson/pseuds/AmyBenson
Summary: They're out of the time storm, stuck in 1983, waiting for the next disaster to strike.Daisy makes a decision.
Relationships: Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa
Comments: 21
Kudos: 150





	the ones who bloom in the bitter snow

**Author's Note:**

> My sister made me write this.
> 
> English isn't my first language, so it's entirely possible that my grammar and punctuation make little sense at times. I didn't want to make someone beta read another one of Dousy one shots that are everywhere right now.
> 
> Yes, it's one of those.  
> I just needed to get it out of my system, and my sister insisted.
> 
> It won't matter in 4 days anyway.
> 
> Title from _Hadestown_.

Daisy was standing in the galley holding a cup of tea. A cup of tea made by Daniel Sousa. He was surprisingly good at it, as well as making whatever rations they were having for a meal feel almost home-cooked.

It had kind of become their routine over the last couple of days that they’d spent in 1983, patching up themselves and the Zephyr, monitoring newsfeeds and SHIELD communications, waiting for the next disaster to strike. Daniel made tea for anyone and everyone, Daisy worked Z1’s shitty coffee machine.

Daisy wasn’t sure when they’d moved to first names. Post-loop debrief turned emotional; exhaustion was setting in. Sousa took the first watch, and she was too tired to sleep, so he made her that tea of his and looked like he’d offer her a shoulder to cry on, if not for the death stare she gave him. Those were things too big to be put into words and tears, existential horrors her team was going through: she would have screamed about having been tortured and then forced to watch her closest friends die again and again, but Coulson was charging and waiting to be turned on with a fucking button, and May’s heart was empty, and Mack’s parents had been murdered and the past as he knew it stolen from him, and God knows what Jemma kept to herself and kept from herself, and... So she spent the best part of the night sitting in the dark, listening to him whistle under his breath. 

There was something weirdly soothing in flickering displays and humming sensors of the command center. Sousa’s watch hadn’t yet finished when she wished him good night, and she must have called him agent Sousa, because it was probably at that point that he said, “Just Daniel is fine,” with a smile in his voice, but to be honest she’d been thinking of him as Daniel from the moment he’d kissed her back, that had now never happened. 

She was standing in the galley a couple of days later, leaning against the counter, tea warming her hands. She thought she felt his gaze, but when she looked up, he was picking up the files he’d laid out on the table earlier, having moved from his workstation to the galley for a change of scenery.

“Thank you,” she said, “for the tea.” He looked at her for just a bit too long, nodded and turned to leave.

She probably should have left him alone, but she knew now that it was too late to push him away. He’d be there to pick her back up no matter what. Infuriating. Impossible. Terrifying. Attractive. She owed him the truth at least, but she also desperately wanted to be on the same page with him again, and that’s where the trouble lay.

"Wait," she said firmly. "Stay a bit."

"Sure."

He put the papers back on the table and went to grab a cup for himself, but then noticed that she'd put hers onto the counter and just stopped and looked at her, properly, kindness in his eyes almost unbearable, and then there was something else, something more.

"This is probably a terrible idea, but hear me out."

There, she said it. No going back now.

"Okay."

“You don’t remember it, obviously, but in the loop, we talked, and you said some things to me, about me.”

“Good things, I hope?”

“Yeah. Nice things.”

“Oh.”

They weren’t skipping along the surface of the pond, they were being dragged through the cold dark water under the ice, with no way of knowing if they’d ever breathe again.

“AndthenIkissedyou. And we’ll probably die, or cease to exist any day now, so there it is. Just wanted you to...” she sighed and gestured vaguely, overcome at last with every fear she still had.

He made the tiniest step towards her.

“That… sounds like something I wouldn’t want to forget.”

They were in hell already, there was not much depth left to fall.

She made the same move as before, her hands on his face, her lips against his, and he answered without missing a beat.

There it was again. That feeling of excitement tingling throughout her body, but also peacefulness; his accelerating heartbeat resonating in her bones; his hands strong and safe on her waist. He was gentle and she didn’t push for more.

“I’d certainly want to remember that,” he whispered when they broke apart.

His eyes were too close now, so she blinked and looked down, settling her gaze on his shoulder instead, her hand on his shoulder.

“I bring bad luck,” she said barely audibly.

“I didn’t have you down as superstitious,” he replied almost as softly.

“People I get close to end up hurt. Or dead.”

“Is it because they’re close to Daisy Johnson or because they’re close to SHIELD? Because, in my experience, SHIELD does that to people.”

“SHIELD fell, like, days after I joined up.”

A dozen questions hung in the air, but Daniel managed to refrain from voicing any of them.  
Daisy sniffed. She didn’t want to have the last word in this argument.

“I hate losing. I hate losing people. I don’t want to get you hurt.”

His palm was now on her cheek, rough thumb wiping off a tear. She realised she’d started crying and groaned.

“Sorry for being overdramatic. That’d scare anyone off, huh?” She smiled weakly and forced herself to look up.

“I’ve been through the war. I’m not that easy to scare.”

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, and for a moment she felt like crying again. Her breath was coming back to her, and she remembered that she had one more line left.

“If we get out of this alive, how about we get a drink?”

“Is that still a thing in the 21st century?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I thought it was going to be either orgies or state-mandated mating, but you seem to have ended up just fine.”

She chuckled, and he smiled, relieved.

“I can look up some orgies for you. Can’t promise state-mandated mating though,” her voice trailed off, his warm eyes too close again.

“I’d like that,” he said finally. “A drink, I mean.”

They were both giggling now. The tea was getting cold, forgotten on the counter.

The alarm sounded, and they broke apart, first hands, then eyes.

They were being dragged through the cold, dark water, and Daisy had little hope that they'd ever resurface, but she knew that on the other side it was not just air, but a break in the clouds and maybe a sun in the sky.


End file.
